Hey, does anyone remember the last time I got my hair cut and colored? Anyone?
Let me refresh your memory!
Also note that the date on that post was last MARCH. That was the last time I stepped foot in a salon. Because I was scarred, man. Scarred for life. Also, the parking ticket I got that day turned out to be THREE parking tickets (nice of them to come back and add on, no?), and that just seemed like the final nail in the debacle coffin.
Now, I made a conscious decision over the summer not to color my hair, because I’d rather swim all summer than worry that I’m stripping out my color, but still. Um. Summer’s been over for a while. Otto gave me a certificate for salon for my birthday (back in August) and I just managed to get to the salon… yesterday.
The good news is that my husband is thoughtful and thorough and—more than that—probably REALLY tired of listening to me bitch about my hair. So he both got me a certificate to a fancy place AND found out who the “curly hair genius” is there so that I would know who to go see.
Did you know there are entire websites dedicated to curly hair? Curly hair maintence! Curly hair styling! Curly hair stylists, all over the country! This woman he sent me to? I expected her to have a little golden halo and fairy dust, because the People Inside The Computer claim that she CHANGED! THEIR! LIVES!
She did not have a halo. But she did have a very pretty necklace. And she did a kick-ass job on my hair.
First she actually DYED IT BROWN like I asked her to, which started things off right, because that’s not what happened the last time. And she did JUST A FEW foils for highlights, which were markedly NOT RED OR BLOND. And she did all of this while I chattered on nervously, which I’m sure makes me a REAL JOY to work on.
“Oh, hey, the last time I got my hair done she put in a million foils and left me for a couple of hours and then my hair was all RED and BLOND and I was just in SHOCK and WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW?”
Yes. If the stylist has a blog, today’s entry is probably titled “Let me tell you about the crazy, twitchy woman I worked on yesterday.”
She finished up the color and it was BEAUTIFUL, and then she SHOWED ME A PICTURE of how she was going to cut my hair. And it was pretty. And then she did it. And it was pretty!
And then I kissed her. With tongue.
(That’s a lie. Probably.)
Then she whipped out her fancy flat iron and made my hair all straight and shiny and totally alien. So needless to say, I luuuurve it. I slept on it VERY CAREFULLY last night so that I can wear it straight again today. I just had to hermetically seal it in a complicated series of plastic bags so that I could shower this morning. (Totally worth it.)
And yeah, I got a parking ticket (just one!) and had to pay her in gold bullion (for the tip and stuff), but I didn’t even care because I don’t believe you can put a price on a non-traumatic hair experience. Seriously.
I’m holding off on sharing pictures until I figure out if this is something I can do myself here at home or if it was SALON MAGIC and after I wash it on my own, I’m screwed again. I mean, I fully expect that to be the case. But for right now I choose to believe I’ve had a religious hair experience.